Nectar of War: The Song of Verity and Serenity (The Nectar of War Series Book 1)

LEVORA APOLLA ARVENALDI

L aven leans back against his bureau as Phyv, Greyce, and I enter.

Something in Laven is unlike before, still just as caring, but darker in a sense. It could be the years we have spent apart and that we are now both fully grown adults that must get to know one another again, but what I feel in him is what I felt with our father. Strength and stability.

Before I was taken to the Mortal Lands, Laven and I scarcely had moments together due to his imprisonment in Wyendgrev. His release was very shortly before I was taken. During his imprisonment our mother refused to allow me to see him in a place as Wyendgrev, mostly because of the horrid history behind it and how my brother was treated as a prisoner similar to one detained from Quamfasi. My mother and father held great hatred for my uncle due to this. They never understood how Lorsius was capable of allowing Laven to be treated just as those who were taken hostage from Quamfasi and not as one of his own blood.

When Laven was released he was a tiny thread hanging from death. The procedures that were done on him by the Healer should have had him screaming in agony, yet he was already so near to death he could barely comprehend anything happening around him. It took months for him to heal, and when he was finally healthy again, our time was removed once more.

One thing I never understood: why he did what he did to be imprisoned and live through that pain.

As I look at him now, it is almost as if none of that happened. Or it did, but it shaped him into someone I did not get to watch grow through the agony.

“I do have questions of my own that do not require the ears of others.” Laven says as we settle into our chairs. “Firstly,” he says directly to me. “I care mostly about how you are coping with what has happened.”

“I have been coping fine,” I smile. “Truly, I have. The night everything happened I found Phyv and Greyce, and from that day and on we took time to know one another and then we took the time to know the new world functioning around us. It was difficult, but we did it, and we made good friends in the making of our life there.”

“And do these friends know about us? Voschantai Universe,” he further elaborates. “Or those of Lorvithinan Universe.”

“No,” Phyv answers. “Not even our closest friends know who or what we are. They only know us as we are on human territory, and we kept quietly to ourselves while allowing our bodies to remember functionality as we used to here.”

“You are aware that no matter how careful you are, it is still possible that you were seen?” None of us answer. “There is no such thing as allowing yourself both worlds. You either entirely deprive yourself of it or let there be a grave risk of being caught.”

“Have you been to the Mortal Lands?” Greyce questions.

“No,” Laven calmly responds. “I do not need to experience the Mortal Lands to know how to conceal a secret. There is no such thing as clandestinely living in a world with mortals. They operate much differently than we do and for you to even suspect that you have not been monitored is asinine.”

Greyce does not respond.

“Whoever took you and dropped you there could more than likely be monitoring your every move, and if they are not, you still never know. Which is why I say that there is no such thing as trying to keep secret and still believing you have the availability to show who you are on the same territory. Anyone with sight is capable of seeing something they should not.”

He waits for one of us to continue, and we do not.

“I am glad you are safe, not only you, Vora, but all three of you. I am certain your families have been searching for years now. We can only hope the others still on the Mortal Lands have the same outcome as you all.”

“If they begin a search I would like to be a part of it.” Phyv says to Laven.

“A search will begin for them now that you are home. The guards here have large mouths, Amias is most likely holding them all by secrecy to not speak of this or entirely wiping their minds clean of what has transpired so Levora can have her privacy while home. But, with all of this aside, you three have a long night of settling in before you.”

“And I must go home,” Greyce says with a saddened smile. “As much as I love you both I do miss my family.”

“I will take you home.” Phyv immediately declares.

“Wait,” I stand, and Greyce does as well. “When will you come back?”

She cannot just leave me so suddenly.

“Oh, angel,” Greyce smiles while holding my face. “I will see you every moment even while here detained by borders.”

“Six years do not so easily get washed down the drain.” Phyv says as his arms hang over our shoulders.

“I will send Amias with you on your journey to be sure you get to where you need to be safely, he knows Voschantai Universe like no other.” Laven stands up straighter from leaning against his desk. “Where did you say you reside, Greyce?”

“Ramana.”

“Amias knows the way.”

Greyce does not let go of me. “Tomorrow, and if not tomorrow I will see you within a week’s time.”

“And you will return here after taking her to Ramana.” I say to Phyv, and he bows before me, the gesture looks odd given our current mortal attire since I am only used to seeing a gesture in clothing suited for someone from this universe.

I look down at Nyt and Salem as they sit by the fire brewing in Laven’s study. “I will keep them here with me while we wait for you to return.”

Amias appears next to Laven through ascension and with one more hug and a goodbye to Nyt and Salem, Greyce and Phyv follow him out.

Laven sits down in one of the chairs near the fireplace and I do as well.

“Seeing you in this type of clothing is odd.” He laughs.

“The attire here is much different than it is on human ground.”

Laven nods. “I have done some research of my own regarding the Mortal Lands, they seem to age rather fast there. Though, how we dress here is what they used to dress like years upon years ago. What was it like there?”

As I recall many of my moments there, I think I recall most the immense cultural differentiation.

“Well, there is quite a large difference between us and them racially.”

“Blacks and whites.” He mumbles. “I read about this, how they are divided by race just as we are now divided by realm. How did you cope with that?”

I think of the ways I was treated there versus here.

“I would never want anyone to experience the things said to me, but most especially Phyv . . . the names they called him, Laven; what they mean. In the Mortal Lands many other people who look like Phyv snap and let go of all anger they hold due to so much agony building up over centuries, and rightfully so. Looking back on the origins of our universe and seeing the people that it started with makes Phyv one of the most beautiful men. Yet, in the Mortal Lands they treat him as if he is some creature merely existing. Then, there are those who are paler skin and hold hatred for him for succeeding in so much that they didn’t, and they retaliate by thinking he owes them something for having such a high-ranking job. Phyv pushed on no matter the pain because of me and Greyce. I think that is why I clung to him so much and why we have the relationship we have. He reminded me of you, and even though we had Ma and Pa, you were always the most prominent in my life and Phyv replicated that. And what is even more worse, the people of that world do not hear the cries of the minorities until violence transpires. If speaking is not loud enough, then . . .”

“Violence will make them hear.” Laven finishes. “It is intriguing how the world of humans takes action, though, I will not be adamant about us being much different. If me speaking to you does not get the word across to need radical change, then my actions will. In some way how we function here will always be different from how the human’s function. They have no other choice but to divide based on race and gender because there is no true power for them to hold to divide by anything else. There are governmental statuses that they divide by, but color is something they see so greatly there. We do not need ethnicities nor a pale face to proceed in our world, and that is something we will always hold above them, either we have our strength and abilities or not, what they will struggle with for eternity is something we will never have to face, and I am forever grateful for it. Dark skin will always be prosperous on our land.” He pauses and thinks. “Although, I cannot say I am as strong as you deem. I have had plenty of moments of severe weakness that I have caved in and done things I should not have.”

“That is what you believe of yourself, and you know I will never agree with you.”

“Agreeing to disagree,” Laven smiles. “I have missed you.”

I stand and pull him from his chair to hug me once more and he smells just like pa. “I have missed you more.”

*  *  *

I feel unidentifiable in these clothes. I do not remember the last time that I have worn a shift and robe to bed. Yet, the clothing is not the only thing I am growing to remember here. My inabilities are also very prominent. Inability to bend magic of any sort and having strength that mimics the strength of a mortal. That is my undoing here in Vaigon and Voschantai as a whole.

I am considered weak here. There is nothing that I can do that matches the abilities of my family. Despite all that Phyv, Greyce, and I went through, I did not hate it in the Mortal Lands because I felt normal to that world. Whereas here, the place I am supposed to know as home is nothing near it. Well, I am not someone built to be in this world. But when you love someone, you are willing to make as many sacrifices as possible to be sure they are happy.

So, I will endure for Phyv as he endured for me all this time.

The doors to my chamber burst open and I see my mother standing in the doorway with two of her ladies behind her. They bow before quickly leaving us.

She stares at me, as if to be sure it is actually me that she is seeing, and I too with her.

Her chest rises and falls in her corset as she slowly approaches.

One hand hesitantly reaches outward to touch my cheek and I fall into her.

“Ma,” I cry out and I can hear the sweet whisperings of ‘angel’ as she cries into my hair.

“My girl,” she smiles down at me with tear-soaked cheeks. “Mortal Lands?”

I wipe away the tears on her beautiful skin that was deemed horrendous where I previously lived. “Yes, Mortal Lands.”

She exhales and nods. “I will begin a bath for you, and you will tell me all about the mortals and their way of life.”

*  *  *

I step into the warm water and Ma rolls up her sleeves and rubs shavings of soap into a soft cloth. She sits on the ledge of the bathing tub and begins to cleanse my back. I close my eyes as the warmth of the water and the soap is rubbed along my back.

“Laven is different.”

I hear a soft exhale followed by a gentle laugh. “Laven is a grown man now. Very different from when you left.”

“Is there no woman in his life?”

She chuckles again. “There are many women in Laven’s life,” I sharply turn to her in surprise. “But,” she holds up her finger. “There is one prominent one, he no longer speaks of her, but I know his soul can only speak to her.”

“What is her name?” I turn back around as she continues to clean my back.

“Maivena.”

I smile. “Pretty.”

“She is a beautiful woman. Very brave heart.”

“And your relationship with Laven has been mended?”

Before I was taken, Laven and our mother were nowhere near speaking terms after the death of our father. I blamed my mother for a long time for not telling Laven sooner, but we all were grieving the most important man in our lives. I believe it is true that we all do grieve differently.

“We are mended, we mended after you were gone. He realized he did not want to lose me too, although, he is my first child, my first son, he could never lose me if he tried.”

I grab her hand and turn around in the warm water to face her. “I am glad to see him healthy.”

She smiles. “Those years of his mind not being with us are gone. Laven has flourished from who he was previously, he did it with the help of all of us, even you when you were still here. The old rhymes you would sing to him to help him sleep he still tends to hum every now and then.”

“And everything else that has happened while I have been gone?”

“What do you mean?”

“The rogues.”

Her head shakes. “No, my love, that you will not be worrying yourself with.”

I want to be worried by it. I want to help, I want duties, I want tasks, I want quests. I am capable. I am labeled a High Princess then I am not allowed to act as Princesses do in other realms. High Princess Hekva of Misonva, the Vampire Realm, has a history of being a great Princess to her people and will prosper and reign. There is even a young Warrior I read about years ago while here, she had won every Quamfasian Game starting at the young age of sixteen, her name is Ivella Fondali, and her streak most definitely continues, and I am certain she was stellar in the war. That is what I want. Now that I am home I must make them promise me that I will not be kept small. I do not want to be known as the pretty Princess that did not know how to defend herself and called like a damsel for protection.

“Then what am I to be worried with?”

“Making sure you are settled before taking on extremities.” She waves her hand for me to turn around again so she can finish my back, and I do.

“Laven was never expected to settle before having extreme duties bestowed upon him.”

“That is because Laven needed to be shaped to become High King when Lorsius no longer rules.”

That name sends shivers down my spine.

“Laven needed to be molded and carved to fit his coming position, whenever that may be. Even now Laven is still being molded to fit the role of a High King, but he is nearly there.”

I no longer wish to speak of me and turn the conversation back to my brother.

“And what do the boys become when Laven is High King?”

The hot water slowly drifts down my back and as I close my eyes I see the distraught look on Roaner’s face at my arrival and I tear them open.

“They keep their title and move higher. They become more prominent in House Arvenaldi and in our citadel as a whole.” Her head lowers near mine. “I do not want you to fear what you will become. Not every High Princess nor High Queen must be vigorous to make history, Levora. Be you.”